


Drunken Questions Answered

by DeathBird



Series: In Another World [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Apology fic, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, I love these guys, I'm Bad At Titles, M/M, No Angst, No Porn, No Smut, No Spoilers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, so tooth-rotting bones would be concerned for your health, sorry bones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 23:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11885529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBird/pseuds/DeathBird
Summary: Kirk and Bones got drunk one night. The topic of Spock's constant and unwaveringly angleic grace came up. Now Kirk, being Kirk, decided to test his First, the only way Kirk knows how. By tripping Spock up.





	Drunken Questions Answered

**Author's Note:**

> This is my apology fic for not being active on my proper one. Been kinda busy lately, what with starting school again and stuff. This is my apology. Took my hardly more than half and hour to write, so don't worry, I'll be getting back down to work as soon as possible. 
> 
> Also, I'm a hardcore McSpirk shipper, as well as a hardcore Trekkie. If anyone want to give me a oneshot promt for a ship from any of the shows or movies, just send it my way and I'll see what I can do. Same for a lot of other fandoms. Send them my way, and I'll see what I can do. I'll try and not take on too many things at once, or make too many promises, but I will do my best. 
> 
> Enjoy my little drabble!

Tripping isn't a graceful thing. In all of Jim's years wandering the stars, he has never met anyone, alien or human, who can fall over with grace. Until today.

Not too long ago, Jim got drunk with Bones (Not an unusual situation), and they both began talking about Spock (also not unusual). This deceptively normal conversation soon took an unexpected turn.

"Why's that hobgoblin got to be so damn graceful all the time?" Bones had said, angrily, holding Jim's shoulder for support and waving his arm towards the ceiling.

"I _know,_ it's like he's just an _angel_ or something..." Jim slurred, dragging his friend back to their table so he could lay his head on it. He likes this table. It's a good table, and always holds his head up when he plonks himself down on top of it. Like now.

"Yeah, he's an angel alrigh'..." For once, there wasn't the slightest hint of sarcasm in McCoy's voice.

"Hey, he's got those super Vulcan ears, remember? He'll _heear youuuu..."_ Jim shook his friend, still not lifting his head, trying to rub out the images of his first officer from his mind and onto the table. Bad table, it won't take the images of Spock away. His green-tinted face, those eyebrows sharp enough to cut fibreglass, those peircing brown eyes that see right through every facade that he tries to put on, yet that wear one themselves, the slight smile that plays on his lips sometimes that just makes Jim's heart _explode_ in his chest.

"Bah!" Bones grumbled, banging a glass on the table. They finished everything not too long ago (Jim would later realise that Spock had been certain to ensure that neither of them possessed enough alcohol to cause either of them to pass out, and that he held all the excess in his own quarters), and he wasn't pleased by this. A moment later, however, his face lit up unexpectedly, and he tugged Jim's head up until their noses were almost touching. Jim could smell the alcohol on McCoy's breath, see the flush on his face, and the whole position is far too close to the doctor's lips for Jim's drunken comfort.

"I bet he even _trips_  gracefully!" Bones exclaimed, his cheeks wrinkling with the force of his grin. They both fell into a pile of laughter, and remained there until Spock came in to announce that they had reached a Class-M planet and needed the Captain and CMO for the Away Team. The Vulcan's confused expression simply pushed them deeper into their spiral of crushing, drunken joy.

It was an incident Jim barely remembered, but the doctor's words had gotten him thinking. He had tried to think if he had ever seen his First Officer fall over, but every time he tried the answer always came back the same: "No."

Today Jim is going to change that.

It has been weeks in the planning, he has devoted many of his off-duty hours to laughing at and finalising the prediction of what Spock will look like when falling (and what do _you_  do with _your_ spare time?) and today is the day. He has checked and re-checked more times than he can count. It is peaceful. All ship functions are optimal. All sensors read clear. They are in between systems, making their way from calm to calm. All is good. There is no risk. Bones is by his side. And most importantly, Spock is distracted.

"I simply cannot see why you enjoy harming your own health for a minor and completely temporary high. You cannot even recall most of what happens when you are inebriated, there is no reason-" Spock is lecturing Jim and Bones on the illogicality of getting drunk, a subject which the Vulcan is most passionate about (even if he'd deny it when approached on the subject). The perfect distraction, especially since it gets the man pacing. Back and forth, beside the Captain's chair, one hand holding the other's wrist behind his back, spine straight and head up, looking between his two humans. To him, they are always _his_ two humans, though he'd deny that too.

**Three, two, one...**

Spock passes right by the foot of Jim's chair, and Jim takes his opportunity. He sticks his foot out, right as Spock's legs passes. It catches, and what follows is one of the more curious and memorable things that happen in the lifetime of James Tiberius Kirk.

There is a flash of surprise on Spock's face, his eyebrows raising to brush his fringe, and he glances to Jim I'm something between confusion and betrayal. The unused padd he was holding in his hand clatters to the floor, much as it would had any other person dropped it. Spock's knees then hit the ground with a dull _t_ _hud,_ and his arms unfold from behind his back to fly out in front, and hit the ground with another dull _thud._ Only a slight twitch of his eyebrow shows that he was in any way effected by the impact.

He looks as if he's midway through a press-up.

He moved through the motions as if it were a dance, something choreographed and planned in advance, something he was prepared for and readily expecting. He maintains that inhuman grace, that nearly magical air of calm and logic.

Spock falls like an angel.

"May I ask the purpose of this exercise?" He asks, maintaing the position with a serene ease.

"Well... I was hoping that we'd find out whether or not you always move like some sort of... Angel." Jim says, eyeing Bones meaningfully.

"Jim you _didn_ _'t-"_ Bones says, incredulous and embarrassed.

 _"-Jim I_   **did!"** Jim grins, enjoying every second.

"Captain? Can you please explain?" Spock says, still on the floor, frowning at the Captain and the CMO, alternating between them with the consistency of a pulsar.

"Hm, I'm feeling a bit hungry, think I'll go down to the mess hall. Mr. Graceful, you've got the Con." Jim says, and leaves the Bridge without another word. Looking back at his crew feom the turbolift, all he can see is Spock standing up, flowing from one position to the next like a waterfall, and Bones watching every single movement as if that Vulcan is the last thing he'll ever see, and the only thing he's ever wanted to.


End file.
